


Ancient Grudge, New Mutiny

by Mythological_Compendium



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Bottom Dean, Cigarettes, M/M, Multi, Piercings, Prostitution, Recreational Drug Use, Romeo and Juliet References, Smoking, Strip Games, Tattooed Castiel, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2017-12-23 03:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythological_Compendium/pseuds/Mythological_Compendium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two rivals, both alike in dignity, share New York City, where we lay our scene.<br/>An ancient grudge found on guise and illegality keeps the past unclean.<br/>The passage of lust and continuance of rage are the subjects of this stage.<br/>Those of you with eager eyes attend.<br/>What here you miss, writer and beta shall strive to mend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act I

It was after 10:00 in the morning before Dean got back to the apartment. He had spent the entire thirty-minute drive from Benny’s house yawning and all he wants to do is fall into bed and sleep until tomorrow. He arrives home to find Sam pacing the living room of their shared apartment with a phone to his ear.

Sam looks up when he hears the door open and greets Dean with a little smile.

"Yeah he just walked in,” Sam says to whoever is one the other end of the call. “I’ll let him know, Sir. Goodbye.”

Dean sighs and shrugs out of his jacket as Sam hangs up the phone. There’s only one person in the world that Sam calls ‘Sir’ outside of a bedroom and that’s Crowley. If Crowley’s on the phone then that means someone did something stupid, which also means Dean probably won’t be getting all that sleep he was hoping for.

He throws his jacket over the back of the nearest couch and asks, “What happened?”

Sam runs a hand through his hair, pushing the growing bangs out of his face. “Adam’s in jail.”

Dean takes a deep breath and folds his arms over his chest. “Did the cops catch him?”

“No." Sam sits on the arm of the couch. “Apparently he got into a bar fight with a couple Angels last night," He says with a sigh. “They’ve all been locked up since. Crowley was his one call.”

Dean shakes his head. “Bad idea.”

Sam agrees with a nod.

“So are we supposed to go bail him out?”

Sam sets his phone on the coffee table. “Apparently we’re letting him stew.”

Dean furrows his brow. “But it’s Friday, if we wait too long he’ll go to prison ‘til Monday morning.”

“That’s the plan.” Sam shrugs. “Crowley’s teaching him a lesson.”

“Oh. Well,” He pats Sam on the shoulder. “I’m turnin’ in.”

Sam grabs Dean’s arm before he could walk away. “There’s something else.”

“C’mon, man, Benny and I took turns holding each other up against a wall last night. I’m _beat_ ," Dean complains and his body seems to creak at his words.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Naomi’s party is tonight.”

Dean looks down at where his brother is clutching his arm then back up at his eyes. “And?”

“ _And_  Crowley wants us to go scope out the competition.”

Sam watches Dean’s face contort into a grimace and he drops his hand. “What?”

“I’ve heard about those parties.” Dean starts shaking his head. “How they start out as regular parties but then turn into—”

“We’ve all heard that rumor, Dean," Sam interjects with a shake of his head, “And that’s _all_ it is: a rumor."

Dean inhales deeply then lets it out in a groan. “Why us?”

“Because you let Adam go to jail when you’re the one Crowley put in charge of him and I’m only going with you because we live together and it’s short notice.”

Dean raises his brow.

“His words, not mine," Sam says quickly.

Dean rolls his eyes, "Whatever, I’m going to bed," then turns for his door. “Wake me up before our ride gets here.”

 “Yup.”

\-- --

Naomi looks up at the clouds in the summer afternoon sky as she moves slowly through her lavish garden. A couple of her Angels wave to her as she walks by and she answers with a slight bow of the head. She walks toward the closest bench and reaches down to pick one of the jasmine flowers from the vine wrapped around it then sits and crosses her legs.

Her latest investor sits next to her and places his hands on his knees, a nervous gesture.

"Tell me about the one named Castiel," He says.

Naomi brings the flower to her nose. “What would you like to know?” She asks, taking in the sweet scent.

“Is he available tonight?”

“All my Angels are available tonight.” She twirls the flower between her thumb and forefinger.

“I'm only interested in the one," He retorts.

Naomi turns to him and he clears his throat, recoiling.

“Why have you taken such a shine to Castiel specifically?” She asks as she gives him a quick once-over. “I’ve introduced you to a dozen of my Angels today yet you ask about one you haven’t met.”

He takes a deep breath.

"I’ve heard good things," He says then licks his lips. “And I just wanted the chance to finally meet him.”

She looks out at her garden again. “Castiel comes highly recommended.”

“I’ll give you double," He blurts.

That makes her look over at him again. A little sweat is beading on his forehead and nose. She drops her gaze to see him scratch at the fabric of his pants. She smiles at the desperate man.

“Triple.”

He balks and blinks rapidly.

“Tonight would be your only window for months, Senator.” She leans toward him a little. “You wouldn’t want to miss it because you’re too afraid to dip into your very deep pockets, would you?”

He looks away and starts grinding his teeth. Naomi purses her lips to mask a grin.

“Alright." He nods. “Alright, I’ll have the money tonight at the party.”

She drops the flower and holds out her hand to him.

“We have a deal.”

He gives it a firm shake as he breathes a sigh of relief.

\-- --

“Wakey wakey!”

A bright light invades the room, making Castiel groan and bury his face in his pillows.

“It’s time to get up Cassy. We wouldn’t want to sleep the whole day away.”

Castiel cracks open his eyes to see a naked Balthazar pulling his curtains open.

“Go away!” He whines as he throws a pillow at Balthazar who easily swats it away before stepping over to climb into Castiel's bed.

“Naomi’s looking for you," He says. “We think it might be important.”

“What time is it?” Castiel asks, rubbing his eyes. “And who’s ‘we’?”

“Almost four o’clock and  _all_  of us," Balthazar replies then lays down next to Castiel and props himself up on his arm. “Nathaniel and I saw her chatting up a senator earlier so naturally we told everyone.”

“And you think this senator has something to do with _me_?”

“She wouldn't be looking for you if he didn’t.” Balthazar smirks.

Castiel smiles and pats Balthazar’s cheek with the palm of his hand.

"Stop spreading rumours.”

Balthazar furrows his brows. “Why?”

They hear the sound of a clicking pair of heels approaching and both of them look over in time to see Naomi step into the frame of the door, which Balthazar had left wide open. Upon arrival, she frowns and looks over both of them.

“Castiel, you’re still in bed…” She says. “ Balthazar.”

“I’m leaving!” Balthazar chimes then leans toward Castiel’s ear to whisper, “Tell me everything later," as he climbs out of the bed.

He steps around Naomi, giving her a wide berth as he goes, and closes the door behind him.

Castiel sits up but doesn't leave the bed.

“Balthazar tells me you were looking for me.”

“Yes.” Naomi clasps her hands behind her back. “I wanted to ask what you know about our most recent senator?”

“I’ve never been one to follow politics,” He replies with a shrug.

She smiles. “Well he knows quite a bit about you.”

Castiel looks away and mumbles, “Does he?”

“ _Yes_ , he _does_ ," She says. “He’s planning to attend our party tonight and he asked, by name, for  _you_  to entertain him. Would you like that?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” He grins when he meets her gaze again.

“I knew I could count on you.” She reaches down to cup his chin in her hand. “Now go get ready. The party starts in an hour.”

\-- --

Dean stretches his arms and lets out a long yawn as he steps out of his bedroom. He scratches his belly over his worn cotton t-shirt and walks into the living room just as Sam walks through the front door carrying a pair of white suits in dry cleaning bags.

“Finally,” Sam huffs. “I knocked on your door twenty minutes ago.”

Dean yawns again and wordlessly gestures to the suits.

Sam hands him one of the bags. “Crowley brought over our suits for the party.”

Dean blinks at him. “Brought?”

“Yes darling,” Crowley’s voice emanates from the direction of the kitchen. Dean turns to see his boss leaning against his counter stirring something in a mug. “I wanted to make sure my girls were dressed up pretty for the ball.”

The smile on his face makes Dean’s stomach turn.

He clears his throat and looks over the contents of his bag.

"I don’t look good in white," He says with a shake of the head. “Bela says it drains me.”

Crowley brings the mug to his lips and takes a sip then makes a face and puts the mug on the counter.

"You're paid enough to buy good coffee," He scolds. "Angel masquerades are always themed white. So white you will wear.”

He picks up the mug again and valiantly takes another sip but his face wears the same disgusted expression before he dumps the rest down the sink. He looks surprised when he turns back around to see them still standing there.

“We don’t have all night!” He shouts.

Sam and Dean share a quick glance before heading into their separate rooms.

Dean is the last to emerge minutes later to see Sam standing awkwardly under Crowley’s leer, which then switches to him as soon as he steps into the living room.

“Well you two will certainly be the belles of the ball," Crowley says, then outstretches his arm in the direction of the door. “Shall we?”

All three leave the apartment building and load into Crowley’s red candy paint limo.

A mile into the drive Crowley turns to his silent employees and says, “I expect you two to be on your best behavior tonight. Just because they are our competition doesn’t mean I don’t want you to enjoy yourselves.” He shrugs, “Eat, drink, spy on their clients, participate in the orgy, be merry.”

“Wait,” Dean holds out his hand to Crowley, “Orgy...there’s _really_ an orgy?”

A smile tugs at one corner of Crowley’s lips. “Easy tiger."

Dean looks over at Sam who gulps and stares back at him like a deer caught in headlights. He looks back to Crowley,

“I thought that was just a rumor.”

“All rumors are based in some truth, squirrel.”

Dean leans back in his seat and frowns.

“Something the matter?”

Dean shakes his head. “No.”

“Are you sure? Because you know your punishment if you disobey me." Crowley stares at him and Dean fails to meet the gaze. “Or maybe it’s that you  _miss_  Alastair.”

The sound of that name is enough make a jolt of fear surge through Dean so hard and fast it made him shift in his seat. He glances up at Sam who is studying the carpeted floor of the limo and absently running the tips of his fingers over the door handle.

“No sir,” He says with more conviction than he feels.

“That’s a shame,” Crowley tsks. “He misses you.”

Dean’s lips tremble and he joins Sam in staring at the carpet, forcing himself to keep down the bile at the back of his throat.

The rest of the ride passes by in silence.

Crowley asks the driver to drop Sam and Dean off down the street from the mansion, not wanting someone to notice the vehicle these two particular guests arrived in.

He hands them a pair of elaborate masks and tells them, “Don’t forget to have fun boys!” out the window before the limo drives off.

Sam opens his mouth but Dean cuts him off with a, “Don’t.” then starts the trek up to the house.

\-- --

Castiel waits until he hears the senator's light snores before he slinks out of bed. He tiptoes over to his dresser and slowly pulls open the top drawer, wincing when it makes a little squeak. Castiel peeks over his shoulder to check that tonight's bed-mate is still asleep before rummaging through the drawer for the first white thing he can find, which is a pair of briefs he doesn’t recognize. He checks the tag for a name and finds that it belongs to Inias. Their clothes must have gotten mixed up in the laundry somehow, a surprisingly regular occurrence in a house of twenty people who don’t wear clothing much in the first place. He tugs it on and looks back over his shoulder at the senator as he pushes the drawer closed again before slipping through the door.

There is a woman in a white gown with a plunging neckline standing just inside the door greeting guests as they come in.

“Welcome to Cloudspire Manor," She says, offering her hands to both Sam and Dean when they get to the door.

They plaster on their most charming smiles, which the woman they come to recognize as Naomi, returns with practiced authenticity.

“Okay gentlemen,” She says. “If you need refreshments, you—”

Something behind her catches Dean’s attention: A guy wearing nothing but a pair of white underwear at the top of the grand staircase. When he notices that Dean sees him, he glances pointedly at the back of Naomi’s head then brings his index finger up to his lips. A smile threatens to blossom on Dean’s lips but he forces it back and nods discreetly. The guy smiles before sneaking down the staircase and walking briskly to the large double doors on the left of the entrance hall.

Dean takes Naomi’s hand again, moving her attention away from small talking with Sam.

“Sorry but where did you say the _real_ party was?” He asks, ignoring the look of confusion Sam is no doubt giving him.

Naomi giggles, “Eager, are we?” She points to the doors that the guy in the underwear just snuck through. “Right through there. Food and drinks are directly across.”

Dean gives her a more sincere smile this time and kisses her hand. “Thank you.”

“Thank you," Sam repeats.

“Have a wonderful time, gentlemen.” Naomi says as they walk away and she turns her attention to the group coming in.

“Dude, what the hell?” Sam says in a sharp whisper when he is sure they are out of Naomi’s earshot. “I thought you weren’t on board with the whole orgy idea.”

“Crowley said to have fun, right?” Dean replies as they reach the sliding doors.

It’s the smell of sweat and the unmistakable stench of sex that reaches them first, before the sounds of moans, cries, and the occasional scream of pleasure. The room is sparsely lit but there is enough light to see the bodies moving in the crowd of sixty-plus men and women in the large space. Some are wearing nothing but their party masks, some are wearing costumes complete with fluffy wings, there are people pinning each other to the walls and floors, men and women riding people who they’ve probably never even met before and will probably never see again.

Dean would feel disgusting just standing there—even though he hasn’t touched anything or anyone—but he is too preoccupied looking for that mystery man to care.

“Split up?” He hears Sam say but before he can answer, Sam is stepping into the sea of bodies.

Twenty years Sam has been on this planet and Dean has never once been so surprised at one of his little brother’s actions.

Something taps him on the shoulder and startles him out of his awe so he flips around quickly and is met with the face of the person he’d been searching for.

“Hi,” He says, grinning as he loops his arms around Dean’s neck. “I wanted to say thank you.”

He presses their lips together but the kiss is short-lived because the doors open again and more people pour into the room. He takes Dean by the hand and pulls him away to a corner of the room that isn’t occupied.

“Now where were we?” He says as he moves in for another kiss but Dean stops him with a hand on his hip.

“I’m Dean," He announces.

The guy smiles as his hand comes up to Dean’s face to push the mask up and off.

"Hello Dean,” He says. “They call me Castiel.”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “They?”

“The other Angels and Naomi.” He bites his lip. “My clients call me anything they like.”

The smile Dean was wearing because of that hint of flirtation slowly starts to slide off his face.

"You’re an Angel?” He asks.

Castiel wordlessly points to his own chest and Dean drops his gaze, following the finger to a piercing in Castiel's right nipple: a barbell with black wings on either side of the erect nub. He’d noticed the shape around Castiel’s nipple when he was climbing down the stairs but Dean had thought it was a small tattoo.

“How…indecent,” Dean says and his smile has returned at the sound of Castiel’s laugh. “and not very angelic.”

Castiel reaches up to run his thumb slowly over Dean’s lips.

"We’re all poor excuses for angels around here."

He licks his lips, tasting the tip of Castiel’s thumb. “You got any more of those I should know about?” Dean clears his throat. “Piercings, I mean.”

The corners of Castiel’s lips jump and he takes Dean’s hand to guide it over his midsection.

"I’ve got this one too.” He says as soon as Dean feels his fingertip brush over something metallic in Castiel’s navel. “Why?” Castiel tilts his head. “Do you like them?”

Dean’s eyes flit from Castiel’s eyes to his lips to his nipple then back again. “Maybe.”

“Well then,” Castiel shrugs. “ _Maybe_  I have others.”

“Gimme a number.”

Castiel grins, “Give me a kiss.”

Dean laughs and shakes his head as his hand travels around to Castiel’s back to pull him closer and he places his other thumb and forefinger on Castiel’s chin.

The second time their lips touch is deeper than the first, more earnest, whereas their previous kiss was a memory a second after it began. Castiel holds Dean by the back of the neck as he slides his tongue into his mouth and Dean discovers another stud. He moves the hand resting on Castiel’s back up his side until he could get the tip of his thumb to rub over the winged piercing, making Castiel whine against his mouth. He pulls Dean so tight against him it feels as if they might meld into each other.

Someone off to the side clears his throat. They ignore him and he does it again, sounding more insistent this time. They still don’t give a response until they hear,

“Cassy, a word?”

Castiel pulls away from Dean so roughly his lips sting.

“Here’s a word,” He snaps at Balthazar. “ _Busy_.”

Balthazar glances between Castiel and Dean. “We have to talk.”

“Another word is _Later_.”

“No,” He looks between them again and this time Castiel notices the way Balthazar inclines his head toward Dean. “ _Now_.”

Castiel sighs and looks Dean in the eyes. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Dean nods and Castiel tries to go in for another kiss but Balthazar yanks him away.

His grip around Castiel’s arm is tight as he tugs him out of the darkened room and into the entrance hall.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He spits. “Don’t you know who that is?”

Castiel shrugs. “He said his name is Dean.”

“Yes, Dean  _Smith_.” When he sees that Castiel still isn’t getting it, he adds, “Dean Smith. Aquarius. Enjoys sunsets, long walks on the beach, and kinky sex.”

Castiel silently stares incredulously back at Balthazar until he realizes that what he just heard wasn’t a ridiculous sounding attempt at a pickup line, but a ridiculous sounding bio-line from a website they had visited once before to order a male escort for Naomi charged to Gabriel’s credit card as payback for him dropping a stink bomb in Balthazar’s bedroom. What they did not know at the time was that the website was a side project for a firm that was their biggest competitor or that when Naomi found out she would flog Gabriel to the point that he couldn’t see any clients for a month. He didn’t speak to either them for over a year.

Castiel closes his eyes and mutters, “He works for Crowley.”

“Yes!” Balthazar looks around to make sure he didn’t alert anyone with that shout. “Now you know I’m all for a bit of fondling but Raphael saw you.”

Castiel’s eyes widen in panic.

“You don’t even want to know what I had to promise him so he wouldn’t run to Naomi.”

Castiel cringes. “I’m sure I don’t.”

Balthazar shakes his head.

Castiel looks at the door as if he can see Dean on the other side waiting for him to come back. “What do I do?”

“You get back in bed, pretend like you weren’t even down here.”

He sighs. “But—”

“Cas!”

His head snaps up to look at Balthazar.

“If you don’t get back up those stairs, I’ll go to Naomi myself.”

Castiel searches Balthazar’s eyes. He knows his oldest and closest friend wouldn’t really do something like that but he also knows he shouldn’t have been down here in the first place. He sighs and glances at the door again before stepping passed Balthazar, heading back to his room and the sleeping senator.


	2. Act II

When he realizes Castiel won’t be coming back anytime soon, Dean’s senses start to register his surroundings again. The sights, smells, and sounds start to permeate the haze and he jerks away from the wall. More people had crowded into the already packed room while his attention was on the Angel and Dean could barely move without brushing up against someone. He considers looking for his brother through the sticky sea of bodies but then decides against it. Judging by the way he acted when they first walked in, Dean would hate finding Sam doing something he'd need to bleach from his brain. He manages to slide his way out of the room and stands just outside the doors, narrowly dodging a woman who storms passed him.

He can hear talking and laughing coming from across the hall: Naomi chatting up her guests as they rest up between rounds. Dean, remembering that he had left his mask on the orgy room floor, figures it would be best to move before someone recognizes him. He walks out through the front door, thinking he might take a quick walk around the house before letting Sam know it’s time to wrap up and go home.

He hadn't realized how massive Cloudspire is until it takes him almost ten minutes to get around to the back of the house, where he can see the plants from Naomi’s garden hang over the low wall of their enclosure.

He hears the sound of a door open somewhere above and a light shines from inside the house, illuminating him and the plants nearest him. His body jolts with the instinct to duck down behind the wall but he freezes when he sees who steps out onto one of the balconies.

Castiel is wearing a robe over his shoulders now. He sighs as he leans against the ledge and reaches into the pocket on his robe to pull out a cigarette and lighter.

Dean clears his throat when he sees Castiel place the cigarette between his lips.

"You know smoking is bad for you.” He projects.

Castiel jumps and his unlit cigarette falls somewhere in the garden. “Who is that?” He says into the dark and Dean smiles at the alarm in his voice.

“Angel, I’m hurt you forgot me already.” He says, laying a hand on his own chest and stepping out where the light hits him better, just below the balcony.

"Dean?" Castiel leans his upper body over the edge of the balcony, squinting. “What are you doing?” He asks.

“I was just goin’ for a walk.” Dean shrugs as he slides his hands into his pockets. “Waiting for the party to die down.”

Castiel recites, “Guests aren’t allowed to roam the grounds unsupervised.”

“Well,” Dean sighs as he looks around. “I don't see anybody else here so I suppose _you'll_ have to do the supervising.”

“I don't think that would be very wise.” Castiel says and leans his elbows against the ledge. “I could get into a lot of trouble if I'm caught with you... _again_.”

“Why's that?” Dean arches an eyebrow. “I’m just a guest.”

Castiel smiles fondly and shakes his head. “A guest with ulterior motives.”

Dean opens his mouth but, at a loss of what else to say, resigns and laughs instead. “Your rude friend with the funny accent tell you?”

“His accent isn’t funny.” Castiel’s brows pull together. “And yes he did help me conclude that you are, in fact, not a regular guest. You are the enemy.”

“Our _bosses_ are enemies.” Dean retorts. “That doesn’t mean _we_ have to be.”

They hear a voice coming from inside just as Dean feels his phone vibrate against his hand. Castiel looks over his shoulder.

“Stay!” He whispers to Dean before stepping back inside the house.

Dean fishes the phone out of his pocket and sees a new text from Sam: ‘Where are you?’

“Dean.”

He looks up to see Castiel had reappeared and puts the phone back into his pocket without answering his brother.

“This probably isn't the best time to talk.” Castiel frowns. “It’s not exactly safe for you here.”

Dean scoffs, “What's Naomi gonna do? Spank me?” then says with a grin, “I can take care of myself.”

Castiel matches Dean's grin. “I don't doubt that.” He says then bites at the corner of his mouth. “But I still think it would be best if you left,” He looks over his shoulder. “And soon.”

“Why do you keep looking back?” Dean gestures at the door into Castiel's bedroom. “Got someone up there?”

Dean sees Castiel look down. “Not anymore…” He says, softly.

“Oh.” He slaps at the air. “Well, it's an orgy right? You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs and forces a laugh as he moves his gaze away from Castiel's silhouette. “At least now I know why you left me stranded.”

Castiel lets out a breath. “That was purely Balthazar’s doing. I'd much rather have spent my night with you.”

That revelation makes Dean smile to himself but then a voice comes from inside again and his heart drops. Castiel flips around quickly and stares through the balcony doors. He turns back to Dean and puts his finger to his lips as he did on the staircase before stepping inside again. Dean can hear the faint sound of talking coming through the doors. He recognizes Castiel's deep tone when he speaks but the other voice Dean can't place.

Castiel steps out onto the balcony again leans his body even further over the edge to ask, “What’s your phone number?”

Dean chuckles, “You got a pen?”

He can see Castiel shake his head. “I’ll remember it.”

“How much longer is that bloody cigarette going to take?” shouts the voice from inside that Dean immediately recognizes as the rude friend with the accent.

Castiel sighs and says, “I'll be right in, I'm almost done,” over his shoulder then turns back to Dean who replies,

“It’s 866-907-3235.”

He doesn’t see Castiel’s smile but he knows it’s there when Castiel whispers, “I’ll call you.”

“You better,” Dean grins.

Castiel blows him a kiss and watches Dean catch it before walking back into his bedroom and closing the doors behind him.

At the front of the house, Dean finds Sam leaning up against the side of a taxicab with an impatient look on his face.

“Dude!” He sounds annoyed which means Dean isn’t going to hear the end of this. “Where’ve you been?”

“I was just getting some fresh air.” He shrugs. “Didn’t do much good though, I can still taste the stink.” He leans forward a little and sniffs at the air between himself and his brother. “You’re not stepping foot in my nice apartment smellin’ like that.”

Sam rolls his eyes as Dean moves passed him to climb into the cab. “I was working.”

“Yeah,” Dean chuckles. “I bet you were.”

\-- --

Dean’s phone doesn’t ring the whole ride back to the apartment, nor while he was getting himself ready for bed, nor for the hour he laid awake under his sheets before falling asleep with the phone in his hand.

He awoke to a text from Benny but nothing else.

“Great,” he groans to himself as he sits up.

He opens his phone, meaning to text Castiel but then remembers that he didn’t get his phone number. With a sigh, he sets his phone down on the bed and steps into the bathroom to brush his teeth. There are still no missed calls on his phone when he picks it up again so, resigned, he leaves his bedroom with it in his fist.

Sam is sitting on the arm of one of the couches, watching TV with a steaming coffee mug in his hand.

“Morning,” He says and Dean grunts in response as he drops heavily onto the other couch.

“So,” Sam started after taking a sip from his mug. “Are you gonna tell me where you went last night?”

Dean, who had looked at the ceiling when he noticed an incessant beep, now turns his eyes on his brother.

“I _did_.”

“Oh yeah, you were getting some fresh air,” Sam scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Make sure you come up with a better excuse when we talk to Crowley later.”

“Yeah.” Dean looks up at the ceiling again. “What the hell is that noise? Is that the smoke alarm?”

Sam folds his lips. “It’s your work phone,” He says and nods to the other end of the couch he was sitting on where the corner of the device is sticking out between the cushion and the other arm. “It rang a couple times this morning,” —Dean steps over to the phone and pulls it out—“I guess that’s the voicemail reminder.”

“I’ve never had voicemail on this thing,” Dean mutters as he opens the phone.

There is one unopened voicemail and two missed calls from the same unknown number.

“You probably didn’t know it was there because you always answer the phone as soon as it rings,” Sam continues.

Dean’s stomach twists as he puts the phone to his ear.

“Dean,” The voice on the other end of the voicemail immediately puts a smile on Dean’s face. He leans his head back onto the couch and listens, “I’m sorry for calling you so late but we had to clean up after the party and then I had to wait until everyone went to sleep. Sadly, it seems that you have as well. I would ask that you don’t call me back at this number because it isn’t my phone but I will call you again in the morning. I can’t wait to hear from you.”

The message ends and Dean opens his eyes. He hadn’t even realized that he had closed them to imagine Castiel sitting in the dark with the phone gripped tight in his hand, speaking softly and sweetly into Dean’s ear.

He meets his brother’s accusing gaze.

“You met someone last night, didn’t you?” He accuses aloud.

Dean pulls in a deep breath but by the time he exhales, the phone is ringing again. Recognizing the number as the same one that left the messages, he stands and starts for his room.

“Hey Angel,” He answers before closing his bedroom door behind him.

He can almost hear Castiel’s smile. “It’s good to hear your voice again, Dean.”

“Same here.” Dean licks his lips and sits on the edge of the bed.

“I was worried when you didn’t pick up, I thought…” Castiel lets out a short laugh. “I thought your feelings had changed.”

“No, baby, no.” Dean shakes his head. “I gave you the wrong phone number by mistake, so I was waiting by one phone when you were calling another.”

Castiel makes a sound of understanding then laughs again.

“You were waiting by the phone for my call?”

“With bated breath.”

He scoffs but Dean knows he is still smiling.

“So, uh, you don’t have a phone?”

Castiel clears his throat. “Not a personal one, no.” There is rustling on the other end of the line. “Naomi doesn’t like us to keep secrets so we have phones around the house, but they’re all in public spaces.”

“And where are _you_?”

“The kitchen,” Castiel sighs. “My rude friend with the funny accent is making us lunch.”

A muffled voice comes on the other end of the line, speaking words Dean doesn’t hear but Castiel chuckles at whatever he said.

“So when can I see you again?” Dean asks to bring Castiel’s attention back to him.

“I’m free later this evening,” Castiel replies after barely any deliberation.

“Do you know that bar, Church’s? The owner and I go way back. Do you wanna meet there and…see where the night takes us?”

“Yes,” Castiel breathes heavily and Dean smirks.

“Say 5:00?”

“I’ll be there.” Castiel hums. “I have to go now, Dean, but I will see you tonight.”

“Don’t be late.”

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.”

Dean chuckles. “See ya Cas.”

“Later Dean.”

The line cuts off and Dean falls backwards onto his mattress with a wide smile on his face. He lays there until his stomach protests with hunger.

Sam has his arms crossed over his chest when Dean steps back into the living room.

“Hey _Angel_?” He exclaims.

Dean raises his brow but he doesn’t meet his brother’s eyes as he moves to the kitchen.

“You can’t be serious,” Sam says, following him. “What’s Crowley gonna think?”

Dean opens the fridge and peers inside. “I could give a shit what that asshole thinks.”

Sam starts to speak but then takes a breath. “What if he finds out and sics Alastair—” Dean can’t help the fear that runs through him again—“on you again, huh?”

He faces his brother with the carton of milk in his hand. “I _told_ you to never say his name.”

Sam immediately deflates. “I’m sorry,” He sighs as he watches Dean pick up a box of cereal. “But Dean you remember what he was like when he found out you started sleeping with Benny for free, how do you think he’s gonna react when he finds out about that Angel?”

“I don’t wanna think about those two right now okay?”

Sam huffs. “And why not?”

“’Cause I’ve got a date tonight,” Dean grins before stowing the spoon full of cereal into his mouth.

\-- --

Castiel is sitting on one of the benches in the garden, tapping his foot and absently scratching his thumbnail over the stem of a flower he had accidentally broken off one of Naomi’s plants. He checks his watch for the third time in the same minute and finally decides to go call Balthazar before he implodes.

By the time, he reaches the door leading into the house, Balthazar is stepping through from the other side.

“Where have you been?” Castiel grouses. “You left nearly three hours ago. How hard is it to rent a car?”

Balthazar glares at him before stepping by and pulling a box of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket.

“You might want to cut me some slack here since I’m the one putting my ass on the line for you,” He says as he lights the cigarette and sits on the bench Castiel had just vacated.

Castiel sighs heavily. “Well, you hardly seem willing.”

“Well I’m not the one getting dick at the end of all this.”

Castiel crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you telling me you’re jealous?”

Balthazar rolls his eyes. “I’m telling you this one-night stand is hardly worth the risk.”

“Who says it’ll only be one night?” Castiel retorts.

He gets a scoff in response and Balthazar ousts his cigarette on the arm of the bench.

“You’re a whore,” He says, standing. “And so is Dean. Common sense says it’ll only be one night and if by some miracle it goes any further than that, it’s just gonna end up with you two heartbroken or worse.”

Castiel clenches his jaw but holds Balthazar’s gaze. “This is different,” He says through his teeth. “ _Dean_ is different.”

Balthazar shakes his head. “Whatever you say, Cassy.” He tosses the cigarette butt into one of the bushes. “The car is rented and I’m ready when you are.”

He kisses Castiel on the forehead then walks passed him back into the house.

\-- --

“You’re here early,” Chuck muses when Dean walks into his bar.

Dean waves his hand as he drops onto the stool nearest Chuck. “I’m meeting someone.”

Chuck nods and picks up the broom to clean up a few shards of broken glass off the floor. “Crowley got you working the streets ‘cause you let Adam go to jail?”

“Adam’s a grown-up, he can take care of himself.” Dean picks at a scuff on the otherwise pristine countertop. “And this isn’t a work thing.”

“Oh?” Chuck leans his arm on the tip of his broom. “I thought you and Benny were an item.”

Dean scoffs. “Benny has a wife…and ankle-biters.”

“That never stopped you two before," Chuck notes as he goes back to sweeping.

Dean purses his lips.

“Well this guy is different. I won’t have to worry about his old lady walking in on us while we’re fucking.”

Chuck drops the dustpan on the floor and starts sweeping into it. “He another pro?”

“Yup.”

Chuck makes a noise as he bends over to pick up the scoop. “Crowley allowing inter-office romances,” He says more to himself than to Dean. “I wonder, does he watch and critique?”

Dean doesn’t think Chuck would want to know the answer to that question so instead he tells him, “This guy’s not one of Crowley’s.”

Chuck dumps the shards into the trash bin behind the counter. “Who else works the town but Crowley and Na—” His eyes find Dean. “You’re not serious.”

Dean laughs at the similarities in Chuck and his brother’s reactions.

“You’re fucking an _Angel_?”

“Well not yet but I think tonight’s the night,” Dean shrugs.

“Wow,” Chuck says softly. “Well. Maybe this’ll put an end to Crowley and Naomi’s sexual tension and everyone’ll just start screwing in the streets.”

“Dude,” Dean winces. “Ix-nay on the orgy talk.”

The door opens again and Dean looks up but in bumbles a barfly. He lands heavily on the stool next to Dean and raises his finger at Chuck.

“Comin’ right up, Zach.”

Barfly Zach smells like a toilet so Dean moves further down the bar while Chuck makes him a drink.

A horn honks outside and Dean straightens his back to look through the window by the door. Parked in front of the bar is a blue car, polished and shimmering.

Dean shoots an excited smile back at Chuck who half-smiles back at him.

“You be careful now, Dean,” He says, pointing at his old friend.

Dean nods back as he pushes the door to the bar open again.

The right rear passenger window rolls down as he steps up to the car and Dean sees a familiar smile but the eyes catch him off guard. He had an inkling that they were beautiful just because all of what he could see of Castiel in the strained light at Cloudspire was beautiful, but he didn’t expect the deepness of the blue.

“Dean?” He watches Castiel’s face fall. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Dean breathes.

Castiel opens the car door and holds his arm out. “Will you come inside?”

“Yeah, baby,” Dean replies, taking the hand and climbing into the backseat. “I’ll come wherever you want.”

Castiel rests his hand on Dean’s cheek as he closes the car door. “That’s not what I meant.”

Dean chuckles and presses his lips to Castiel’s.

The sound of someone forcefully clearing their throat interrupts the kiss and brings Dean’ attention to the driver. He shifts forward on the seat as the car starts to pull away from the curb.

“Hey, what’s your name?” He asks. “I’ve just been calling you the rude friend with the accent.”

Castiel bites his lip to keep himself from smiling when Balthazar looks up at him in the rearview mirror.

“It’s Balthazar,” He replies.

“Nice to meet you, man,” Dean says, leaning back and putting his arm around Castiel’s shoulders. “Cas, you hungry? Hey Balthazar, you think we can stop and get something to eat?”

”Sure,” He replies through gritted teeth. “What would you like?”

Dean takes a deep breath and scratches at his belly. He turns to Castiel and studies his face while his Angel does the same thing back.

“You ever been to Tony's, Cas?”

Castiel shakes his head and runs his forefinger over Dean’s lower lip. “I haven’t.”

“Then I guess we’re goin’ to Tony’s.”


	3. Internude

A pair of greasy brown paper bags clutched in their hands, Balthazar and Castiel walk through Cloudspire nonchalantly, ignoring the raised-brow stares they get from the other Angels as they head for Castiel’s bedroom.

The door closed behind them, Castiel hurries to open the balcony doors just as he sees a hand clutching his ledge.

“I couldn’t have snuck in through the front door?” Dean grunts as Castiel grabs his arm to help him.

“Cassy already set up the ladder,” Balthazar says as he opens the bag in his hand to take a French fry then sets the bag on the end of Castiel’s bed. “Besides, where’s the fun in that?”

Dean swings his leg over the ledge as Balthazar brushes salt off his fingers.

“Do try to not be too loud,” He appeals with a wave as he steps out of the room.

Castiel frowns at the back of Balthazar’s head until Dean pinches his chin between his thumb and forefinger to break his gaze.

“Hey,” He whispers.

Castiel can’t help the smile that comes to his face. “Hello Dean.”

“I’ve got an idea.”

Castiel hums.

“Why don’t we play a game?”—Castiel arches his brow—“So we can get to know each other a little better while we eat and before we...y’know.” He nods to Castiel’s bed.

Castiel bites the corner of his lip as he looks back at Dean, particularly at his lips that Castiel had attached himself to the entire ride from the bar to the house, pausing only to give their orders at the drive thru.

“On one condition,” he says. “It has to be a _strip_ question game.” He smiles when Dean mimics his action. “After all, there are other things to be done.” He repeats Dean's gesture toward the bed.

Dean bites his lower lip. “Deal.”

“We'll take off an article of clothing for any question we can't or don't want to answer,” Castiel offers. “How about that?”

“Perfect.”

“So who's going first?”

“Looks like _you_ are,” Dean replies as he moves further into the room, heading for the bags at the end of Castiel’s bed.

Castiel scoffs and follows him. “So then it’s your turn to ask.”

Dean hums as he sits on the edge of the bed and reaches into his bag to pull out his burger. “Where are you from?”

Castiel shrugs and grabs a handful of fries from his bag as he joins Dean on the bed. “I was born in Europe somewhere.”

“Somewhere?”

Castiel pulls off his jacket, “You can’t ask two questions in a row,” and smirks when Dean narrows his eyes at him.

“Fine.” Dean takes a bite out of his burger.

“Do you…” Castiel looks around his room. “Do you have any children?”

Dean furrows his brow and shakes his head.

Castiel laughs softly. “I’m no good at this sort of thing. I don’t know why I agreed to it.”

Dean sucks a piece of lettuce from between his teeth. “You don’t know where you were born?”

Castiel smiles around another fry. “I was adopted.”

“Ohh,” Dean nods. “Your turn.”

“Have you ever broken someone’s heart?”

The smile Benny always gives him whenever he meets Dean at their motel flashes through his mind and Dean blinks, gulping down his mouthful of cheesy fries. “Uh...yeah, I have.”

He realizes that he was staring into space and warmth crawls up his neck when he finds Castiel watching him.

“Okay.” Dean clears his throat. “Star Trek or Star Wars?”

Castiel keeps staring at him.

Dean jerks his head forward. “You know what those are right?”

“Yes, but I haven't—”

“No, stop right there.” Dean shakes his hand at Castiel. “I don't even wanna hear it. Just take something off.”

They've been at it for an hour and are both down to underwear and Dean in one sock. In that time, Dean mostly answered questions about his childhood, and Castiel had given the backstory to his piercings and the tattoo that Dean only just found out he has over his ribcage. He had it covered with makeup last night because his last client—whose name he wouldn’t disclose—doesn't like tattoos.

“Does Crowley brand you all?”

“ _What_?” Dean furrows his brow. “No.”

“Well, I was wondering because all of Naomi’s employees must display wings on their bodies in any way of their choosing.” Castiel says as he pulls the balcony doors closed. “I already had the piercing so all I needed was to get a new barbell. Your turn.”

Dean hums. "When's your birthday?"

"September 18th," Castiel replies as he climbs back into bed to lie on his back next to Dean who was propped up on his elbows. "Why did you start working for Crowley?"

Dean takes a deep breath, contemplating his answer.

“One of Crowley’s guys approached me and my brother when we were in a bar one night, like…two years ago. Talked us up, goin’ on about how we’d be perfect for his company and then he gives us both cards with the Sandover Inc. logo on it and—” He pauses and furrows his brow when Castiel snickers. “What’s so funny?”

Castiel grins. “Are you aware that the people in our circles refer to your company as _Bend_ over?”

Dean rolls his eyes and Castiel laughs.

“ _Anyway_ , we check the place out the next day and turns out there’s a fuckin’ prostitution ring being run out of this bridge and iron company chain that apparently everybody and their grandma knew about but us. So I am immediately just like ‘No’ but Sam—” Dean shakes his head. “—Sam is gung ho about how it’ll be a fun way to pay through school and I couldn’t let him do it alone so…here we are.”

Castiel smiles, “That’s very noble of you,” and brushes his hand through Dean’s hair. “Wanting to ensure your brother’s safety that you would join him in _this_ of all professions.”

“Yeah, I’m a big softie like that.”

Castiel watches Dean’s eyes drop to his lips. So he licks them.

“I must have missed your brother’s information on the website.”

Dean shakes his head slowly, still staring at Castiel’s lips. “We went in with fake last names so no one knows we’re brothers.”

Castiel mouth goes slightly ajar. He wants to ask something more but doesn’t know if he should.

Dean continues, “We did it so Crowley wouldn’t somehow use us against each other. Can’t be too careful y’know?”

“So if ‘Smith’ isn’t your real last name, then what is?”

Dean smirks and Castiel has to drop his hand from Dean's hair when he gets up to pull off his sock.

"You _googled_ me?” Dean asks, arching his brow as he lies back down.

“I had to make sure what I was getting myself into!” Castiel argues, chuckling. “Naomi has people that run background checks on all our clients but I like to do my own research.”

Dean nods. "And you do that for _everyone_ you plan to sleep with?”

“Absolutely,” Castiel affirms with a nod and repeats, "Can’t be too careful y’know?”

Dean smiles at the prideful look on Castiel’s face then slowly leans over to kiss his lips.

Castiel clears his throat once Dean pulls away.

“My turn then."

He takes a deep breath and sighs it out. Dean watches him quietly.

"Why did you agree to come here tonight?" Castiel asks finally.

"I wanted to spend time with you," Dean answers easily, shrugging. "Last night just wasn't enough for me. I wanted more of you."

"So it's about the sex then."

If it were anyone else, that question might have brought a look of shame to their faces but Castiel’s expression was open as he asked, unashamed of another man wanting him for his body. Dean figures he’s used to it by now.

"It was at first, but..." Dean smiles and picks at a tassel on a pillowcase. "I like what we're doing right now just fine."

Castiel purses his lips.

"Why the sudden existential question?" Dean asks softly.

"Balthazar asked me earlier why I was doing this...why I'm risking Naomi's wrath for you." He chews the corner of his lips. "I told him that it was because it felt different being around you than it did with anyone else before." He scoffs. "That sounds vaguely obsessive."

“I don’t mind.” Dean reaches over to rest his hand on Castiel’s chest. "I think we're both a little obsessed."

Castiel moves to run his thumb over Dean's lips. "And after just one kiss."

Dean furrows his brow and corrects, "Two kisses."

Castiel shakes his head, saying, "I don't count that first one."

Dean laughs as he holds Castiel by the wrist and presses his lips against Castiel’s thumb.

Castiel sighs softly. He reaches up with the other hand to hold Dean by the back of the head and pulls him down for a kiss. He stops before their lips touch.

"I want to stop asking questions now, Dean."

Dean searches his eyes for a moment then chuckles, "Okay," as he leans down to press their lips together.

Dean can’t help but smile as they kiss lazily, like they have all the time in the world. He muses at how everything in this moment is flawless: Castiel’s lips on his, their hands roving over each other’s bodies, the way his chest is pressed against Castiel’s side, the way Castiel’s hand is caressing his neck as their tongues slide against each other. He moans every time his tongue bumps against the piercing.

“Come here,” Castiel gasps between kisses as he slides his hand to Dean’s hips, urging him to swing his leg over.

Dean doesn’t break the kiss as he straddles him, feeling the result of their kissing. He presses his own hardness alongside Castiel’s and curls his hips to rub their clothed cocks together.

Castiel breaks the kiss and gasps, "Dean.”

Dean rests his cheek against Castiel’s temple and breathes, hot and heavy, onto Castiel’s ear.

Castiel runs his hands over Dean’s back, down into boxer briefs to grab his ass. Dean arches into his palms then grinds until his thighs start to shake.

“Turn over,” Castiel says softly.

His eyelids flutter when Dean’s hips come to a stuttering halt before he climbs off and lies on his back. Castiel moves himself between still quaking thighs and resumes their kissing.

Dean traces his fingertips down Castiel’s chest, passing over his pierced nipple and feeling the shivers that follow until he finds Castiel’s heat. He feels it twitch in his palm before Castiel is pushing his hand away. He leans down to Dean’s neck but then thinks twice about leaving any marks there so he makes his way to Dean’s chest and softly suckles his nipples then carefully bites them before continuing lower. He looks up into Dean’s eyes as he kisses lower until he reaches the waistband of Dean’s boxers but he doesn’t pull them down despite the urgent rise of Dean’s hips.

Castiel presses his face in the joint between Dean’s thigh and his crotch. His flicks out his tongue to taste the skin of this intimate place and Dean whines. He slides his fingers through Castiel’s hair when he switches to the other side and moans as Castiel runs a hand over the bulge in his boxers.

Castiel looks up at him again as he rubs his cheek against his crotch then follows with his tongue. Dean hisses when Castiel grazes his teeth against the fabric then engulfs it in his mouth. Wet heat melts the material until it sears the skin of his dick and Castiel sucks as if there was no cloth barrier between himself and Dean.

“Cas.” Dean whimpers when Castiel’s lust-darkened eyes find his again. “I want you to fuck me.”

Castiel detaches himself. “Are you sure?”

Dean moves his legs wider and nods. “Yeah.”

Castiel climbs over him again, sliding his fingers between Dean’s as he joins their lips. This time the kiss is hungry and possessive. When Castiel is settled between his thighs, Dean pushes his other hand into back of Castiel’s briefs as he brings his legs up around Castiel’s back.

Dean lets out a frustrated sound when Castiel breaks their kiss again to rub the tips of their noses together. He is placated with another soft kiss before Castiel make his way back down Dean’s body. He takes hold of Dean’s waistband and pulls until Dean’s dick is free to drool precum onto his hip.

Dean takes himself in his hand as he moves so Castiel can pull the underwear off and set it down on the bed.

Castiel leans down and kisses all along his length, like he’s wanted to ever since Dean pressed against him in the car, then slowly runs the tip of his tongue all over his dick.

“Yeah,” Dean breathes when Castiel slides his lips over him and he fights everything urging him to fuck the mouth now covering him.

Instead, Dean grips tightly onto dark locks and watches Castiel take more of him.

Castiel breathes calmly as he takes Dean deeper and deeper then sighs contentedly when he feels the touch of his nose to the mound of trimmed hair at Dean’s base.

High-pitched moans erupt from Dean’s lips the longer Castiel holds himself there, not moving.

Dean slowly runs his palm down Castiel’s arm as the other hand starts tugging at fistfuls of Castiel’s hair. A shudder rolls through him and Castiel feels him give a short thrust into his mouth as he grips onto the back of his head. This action makes Castiel’s ignored manhood beg for attention and he obliges it as he starts to bob his head, dragging a sudden yell from Dean that he had to cover with his fist. Castiel lets Dean slip out to the tip and licks around it. He pushes the stud in his tongue against Dean’s head then takes him in again. This time Dean doesn’t stop himself from thrusting his and Castiel makes small, pleased noises in the back of his throat.

Castiel lays his hand on Dean’s thigh to feel the tell-tale quake of his muscles again then takes his mouth away.

“Cas, y—” Dean pants when his dick slaps against his hip.

Castiel uses his tongue to slip one of Dean’s balls into his mouth. He suckles it as he takes both of Dean’s thighs in his hands and pushes them up over his head.

He stops and Dean immediately takes notice.

Dean looks down and finds Castiel staring at his hole and he doesn’t know what to do so he starts to get nervous. His erection flags.

“C-Cas?”

Castiel’s eyes are riveted and Dean can’t keep his hole from fluttering under the gaze.

“Why did you stop is…is something wrong?”

His thoughts race through explanations for any complaint.

Dean doesn’t expect the deep, dirty moan that comes from Castiel when his tongue flicks out against Dean’s hole. He doesn’t expect to see Castiel’s eyes flutter closed as he lets out those moans into Dean’s flesh, or the way Castiel is clutching his thighs hard enough to leave bruises. He certainly doesn’t expect when Castiel pauses to blow air on him.

“Holy shit.” Dean squirms up the mattress a little, trying to get away from the overstimulation. “Do that again.”

Castiel does as he is told and Dean feels hot enough to melt. His head falls onto the pillow when Castiel presses his lips against him again before slipping the tip of his tongue inside.

He grinds his hips into Castiel’s face when he feels Castiel trying to push his tongue in deeper. He lifts his head to see Castiel thrusting his hips against the mattress with the same rhythm that his tongue moves inside him. Castiel let out that moan again and Dean wondered if he could cum from this.

He doesn’t get the chance to find out because Castiel climbs over him again.

Dean notices how sloppy he looks with his pretty pink lips spit slick. He grabs Castiel by the back of the head and pulls him down but doesn’t close the space between their lips.

“Fuck me,” He demands.

He looks back at Dean in something like reverence and nods.

Dean grabs a pillow to slide under his hips, to make his ass arch to Castiel when turns over onto his front. The bed shifts and Dean turns to see Castiel moving for the nightstand. He pulls out a botte of lube that he can clearly see is halved and a pair of condoms before returning to settle on his knees behind Dean.

Dean raises his hips off the pillow. He expects to hear the cap open or feel a finger against his hole so Castiel’s exhaled breath on his skin catches him off guard. Castiel laps at him with the same earnestness and Dean buries his face in the pillow.

Both hands cupping Dean’s ass, Castiel traces his hole, pressing in further with every lick until Dean, his back arched as far as he can go, is white-knuckling the sheets in one hand and the pillow in the other.

The hands and lips retreat suddenly and Dean can feel tears prickling his eyes. He closes them and waits, listening to Castiel’s movements and breaths behind him.

Castiel tries to move slowly but he can’t wait much longer and he would bet Dean can hardly stand it either. He thinks he hears a sob as he pulls off his underwear. He slides on the condom with one hand as the other flips open the cap on the lube.

The bottle makes an ugly noise when he squeezes it and Dean snickers, which makes Castiel giggle. It splats onto Dean’s hole and he jumps.

“Shit, that’s cold.”

Castiel hums as he grasps Dean’s ass again with one hand and strokes his own cock with the other.

“I’ll warm it up for you,” He breathes as he poises himself at Dean’s entrance.

Dean groans and squints when he feels Castiel finally slide into him.

“Mmmoh…Dean,” Castiel gasps long and loud the deeper he slides until his hips meet Dean’s ass. “Wow…ah.” He holds onto Dean’s hips like handlebars as he gingerly slides out then back in. “You oh you feel even better than you taste.”

Dean braces himself up on his hands and curls his hips against the pillow then pushes back to meet Castiel’s next thrust.

Castiel grunts and runs his hands over Dean’s waist.

The room starts to spin as Castiel pumps tortuously slow, digging as deep as possible then pulling his entire length back out before digging in again. Every move of his hips elicits a soft swear or an aborted whimper from Dean. He takes both handfuls of Dean’s ass and watches himself slide in and out.

Dean, stuck at the edge of climax but wanting this last as long as possible, scratches the sheets as Castiel torments him senseless.

“Are you alright, Dean?” Castiel asks, no doubt taking notice of his violent shuddering.

“Fuck,” Dean sobs when Castiel fills him again. “Yeah, Cas, feels so damn good.”

“You’re okay with the pace?”

Dean nods but he doesn’t know why. He has no concept of how much time has passed but he knows he can’t last like this. Castiel has kept up the leisurely pace for what feels like _hours_ , like he can fuck into Dean just this way until the end of time. He doesn’t know what kinds of endurance exercises Naomi is making her Angels do but he doesn’t know how much longer he can take it. Castiel knocks against his prostate for the first time and everything goes fuzzy. He falls to his elbows.

Castiel moves his hand between Dean’s thighs to grasp his dick. Dean knows he’s been pushing out a steady stream of precum since Castiel first sank into him.

“You’re so wet, Dean,” Castiel comments. “Are you close?”

Dean means to nod but he doesn’t know if Castiel catches the action.

He feels Castiel’s grip on his ass tighten, feels him thrusting just a little bit harder but then he stops completely and pulls out.

“Can you get on your back for me?”

Dean groans at the ache in his knees but he goes until Castiel stops him with a hand on his hip. He feels another pillow being shoved under his ass and rolls over on top of it.

“Dean?” He looks back at Castiel’s wary expression with lidded eyes and smiles as he reaches out to smooth his Angel’s brow. Castiel kisses his palm.

“I’m going to take you a little harder now, okay? So you need to tell me if you can’t continue.”

“Okay,” Dean breathes but he barely understood a word Castiel said.

He guides himself to Dean’s hole again and pushes in just the tip as he takes hold of Dean’s waist. Castiel thrusts into him so hard and fast it knocks the air out of him.

Dean has his head thrown back and Castiel passes his fingertips over Dean’s lips as he pulls from Dean then slams back in, making Dean open his mouth to cry out. Castiel covers Dean’s mouth with his hand. The only sound need be the slap of skin against skin, rivalled only by the mattress protesting.

When he quiets, Castiel holds Dean by the waist again and slowly grinds his hips. Dean claws at the pillow and whimpers when his eyes meet Castiel’s then drops to where they are joined. They both watch Castiel pound into him, so hard his own purpling erection bounces between them. He wonders if he looks as weak and feeble as he feels under the power that Castiel exudes. He reaches down to run his fingers over Castiel’s thigh as his eyes roll back into his head.

Castiel lifts Dean’s legs over his shoulder and clutches the thigh to his chest as he rides him.  He feels the pressure of Dean’s fingernails digging into his knee.

Tears roll down Dean’s temples and his whole body shakes when he starts to stroke himself.

“Harderharderharderha—” Dean moans through clenched teeth, his body tensing as cum gushes out of him, covering his chest. “Fuuck.”

Castiel had stopped moving his hips and now stares at Dean’s skin all covered in his own spill. He leans down and flattens his tongue against Dean’s chest and laps at it. He licks Dean all over, even catching the little drops left on Dean’s tip and the crease between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re perfect,” He whispers before giving Dean a little kiss.

Castiel sits back and takes Dean’s hands, bringing them both to his lips to kiss all ten of Dean’s fingers as he starts moving his hips again.

Dean hisses and pulls one hand away from Castiel. He moves it down Castiel’s chest to rub his thumb over the wings around the nipple piercing.

Castiel falls on top of Dean and holds Dean by the sides of his head as he joins their lips. Dean runs his hand over Castiel’s back down to his ass and squeezes as Castiel starts moving his hips faster until they start to stutter.

Castiel sinks his teeth into Dean’s shoulder as his whole body shakes and he releases into the condom, still buried inside Dean.

They eventually, reluctantly, disjoin when they start to struggle to catch their breaths between kisses. Castiel rolls onto his back and wipes a hand down his sweaty face. Dean hasn’t shifted but Castiel can still hear his harsh breaths.

“What’s your favorite color?” He asks, eyes still on the ceiling.

The laugh he gets in response is hoarse. “I didn’t…used to have one, but…I gotta say…blue just jumped to the...front of the line.”

Castiel elbows him in the side then rolls over to kiss Dean’s shoulder.

“What’s yours?”

“Green.”


	4. Act III

Sam clears his throat and remarks, “Kinda hot today, huh?” as he takes a seat across the desk from Crowley. “I think there was a fist fight over a fender bender outside a second ago,” He laughs. “People get so crazy when it’s hot outside.”

“Where’s Tweedle-dum?” Crowley asks.

“I…” Sam purses his lips and shakes his head. “I don't know, Sir.”

Crowley raises his brow. “You _live together_.”

“We’re not attached at the hip, Sir,” Sam retorts.

Crowley stares back at him in silence.

Sam continues, “I’ve tried calling and texting him b—”

The beep of Crowley's intercom interrupts him.

“Daddy,” The voice says on the other line and Sam cringes. “There's someone here to see you.”

Sam frowns. If it was Dean, he wouldn’t have stopped to address the secretary.

Crowley presses the button and says, “I'm busy.”

“He's n—”

Sam looks over his shoulder as the door opens and he watches a trio of men wearing suits step into the office. He quickly turns back around in his seat and stares at Crowley with wide eyes. He knows a pair of cops when he sees them and the other one, dressed in a startlingly white suit, Sam recognizes as an Angel.

“Officers.” Crowley nods then leans back in his seat. “What brings you to my side of town Raph?”

“We’re looking for a mongrel,” Raphael sneers and puts his hands in his pockets while he surveys the office. “Figured one of yours gnawed through their leash.”

The corner of Crowley’s lip twitches.

“Does this mongrel have a name?”

“I believe it’s _Dean_.”

Sam feels a chill at the disdainful way Raphael said his brother’s name.

Raphael continues, “We know that he and _this_ one were at the party and we’re willing to let that go but this morning, we saw this _Dean_ crawling out of one of the bedrooms and I’m afraid we can’t stand for that.”

The smirk Crowley had been wearing melts away from his face while Raphael spoke. He shoots Sam a glare and Sam meets it with a clenched jaw. He sits up in his chair.

“Are you implying that one of mine spent the night at Cloudspire?” He folds his fingers together on top of his desk. “Well, I didn’t receive any payment from Naomi so they couldn’t possibly have been fucking.” Crowley shrugs. “Do you think they were playing Mahjong.”

Raphael narrows his eyes.

The office door opens again and Dean steps inside. His apology for being late stalls on his lips when he sees the three extra men in the room.

“Are you Dean Smith?” asks the cop in the dark overcoat.

Dean’s eyes flit to Sam, who looks back at him as if he were ready to crawl out of his skin, then to Crowley, who is wearing a deep scowl, and back at the officer.

“Who’s askin’?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees Sam hang his head forwards.

“I’m Detective Henriksen,” replies the one in the suit. “And this is my partner Detective Reidy and we’re with the NYPD.”

“It’s him,” Raphael grouses. “I’d recognise those terrible clothes anywhere.”

Dean locks eyes with the Angel as Reidy approaches him, arm at his side to grab a set of handcuffs. Henriksen has his suit jacket pushed to the side to reveal his gun.

He starts to recite, “Dean Smith, you have the right to remain silent...”

“Dude,” Dean says to Raphael as the officer pulls his arms behind his back. “C’mon, is this really necessary?”

“You broke into our house in the middle of the night and assaulted a resident.”

“ _Assaulted_?” The brothers cry out in unison and Sam sends Dean a pleading look when the officer starts to pull him away.

Sam’s mouth falls open as all three of them disappear through the doorway. Raphael, after adjusting the lapel on his suit, follows them out of the room without a word.

“Well,” Crowley sighs deeply after a moment. “That was something.”

“What the hell,” Sam whispers then turns on Crowley. “Aren’t you gonna do anything?”

Crowley gives him a stern look.

“If my bitch needs a refresher in obedience, who better to provide the lesson than New York’s finest?”

“You can’t be serious!” Sam cries.

“Sit down, Samantha,” Crowley says calmly. “Or you’ll be the next one locked up.”

Sam’s ass finds the seat as elevator dings.

Dean struggles in the officer’s grip when he is shoved inside the elevator.

Raphael spares him one last sneer and Dean screams, “Asshole!” before the doors close.

The officer who cuffed him presses the button to take them down to the lobby.

“I was invited into the house, okay?” he says to the officers but they ignore him. They remain as silent as they suggested he should. “One of the Angels invited me in!”

The pair still give him no reply.

After the elevator dings again, Dean is paraded through the lobby before the eyes of coworkers—both legitimate and illegitimate—as well as prospective clients for both. He withstands stares and whispers as he is trotted through the building’s glass doors then stuffed into the backseat of an unmarked squad car.

Dean starts to sweat as soon as the door is shut behind him. He watches the officers climb into the front seats and thinks to explain himself further but there is no protestation of innocence that he can give that the officers haven’t heard before. So he indeed remains silent.

Until something outside the window catches his attention: a florist shop that is on the way to his apartment, on the other side of town from the police station.

Dean leans forward and asks, “Where the hell are we going?” as he starts to fiddle with the handcuffs, trying to slip out of them.

The car rolls to a stop and, nervous, Dean peers through the window to see a familiar building.

“This is Church’s Bar.”

“Nothing gets by you, huh?” Henriksen grunts as he climbs out of the car.

He opens the door and reaches in to grab Dean under his arm.

“What are you doing?” Dean exclaims as he is being yanked out onto the curb.

“Calm down.” Henriksen produces a handcuff key and starts to release Dean’s wrists. “We're letting you go.”

“I'm…” Dean closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I'm sorry?”

“My partner and I figured that asshole was lying but,” He laughs softly. “But when he walked into the station, we couldn't give up the chance to see the inside of the infamous Sandover so we hopped on the chance.”

They can hear Reidy’s noise of attestation inside the car.

“Anyway you're free to go,” Henrikson continues, then points his finger in Dean’s face and Dean fights his instinct to slap it away. “But we can't have anyone finding out about this so I _better_ not see you around here again or your ass is going straight to jail. Understand?”

“N-not really,” Dean glances around, expecting to see more officers standing nearby, waiting for him to run.

Henriksen sighs, exasperated. “The longer you stand in front of me, the less likely I am to let you go.”

Dean purses his lips. “Don’t tell Crowley.”

Henriksen laughs in his face. “You’re hardly in the position to be making requests.”

Dean remains stoic. “If you’re gonna tell him you let me go then you might as well lock me up cuz what he has in store for me is gonna be much worse.”

Henriksen searches Dean’s eyes then nods.

Dean extends his hand, expecting to shake on their agreement and Henriksen does take his hand but pulls Dean in for a hard kiss.

Dean exhales heavily when they part then stares at the man across from him. He starts to shuffle through his memories because he knows he's had those lips on him before.

“Have we met?” He breathes.

“Leave town,” Henrikson demands when they part then climbs back into the car without a last look in Dean’s direction.

\--,--

His cigarette ousted in the ashtray perched on the ledge, Castiel steps back into his bedroom. He hums as he falls into the sheets that smell like him and Dean and almost misses the soft knock at his door. He frowns at it until the knock comes again: just as tentative, as if he isn’t meant to hear it in the first place.

Balthazar is standing in the doorframe when Castiel opens the door. His arm is leaned against the doorjamb and his bowed head is resting against his arm.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asks and watches his friend chew the corner of his lip. He reaches out to grasp Balthazar’s shoulder. “Balthazar?”

“It’s Dean,” He says, finally meeting Castiel’s eyes, in time to watch them widen.

“What happened to Dean?” He gasps.

“I screwed up Cassy.” Balthazar shakes his head as he steps into the room. “I should’ve known better than to trust him but _God_ I thought that he _could_ be trusted y’know? But that son of a bitch is real set in his bastard ways. He’s been in the business too long. Been with Naomi too long.” Balthazar drops onto the edge of Castiel’s bed.

“Balthazar,”  Castiel pleads. “ _What_ are you talking about?”

“Our...” He sighs and finally confesses, “Our girl on the inside told me that Dean’s been arrested.”

Castiel blanches.

“She said Raphael marched in Crowley’s office with a couple of cops and said Dean...said Dean broke into Cloudspire and assaulted you.”

Castiel’s head swims and he can’t seem to catch his breath.

Balthazar grabs his wrists to bring his attention back. “I’m so sorry Cassy. I...I really didn’t think he would do this.”

“I did what you _should have_ done in the first place.”

Castiel turns to see Raphael leaned against the doorjamb in much the same way that Balthazar was, except his head is held high, his smile full of pride.

“You son of a bitch!” Balthazar barks as he pushes Castiel aside and charges toward Raphael. “You _promised_! Did that blowjob count for nothing?”

Raphael scoffs, “You blew me so I wouldn't tell _Naomi_ that Castiel was fraternizing with the enemy,” and buries his hands in his pockets. “You didn’t say anything about not telling Crowley.”

Castiel catches Balthazar’s hand before he raises it to strike Raphael.

“It’s not worth it,” He whispers in Balthazar’s ear before raring back and connecting his own fist with Raphael’s jaw.

“Holy shit, Cassy!” Balthazar giggles excitedly. He even bounces on the balls of his feet when Raphael stumbles on his.

Raphael starts to laugh but then stops to cup his jaw.

“You’ll thank me once you realize that I did this for your own good.” He grunts, “You need to take better care what mongrels you hump or you might come away with fleas in your wings.”

Castiel shuts the door in his face then leans against it.

“I need to call Dean.”

Balthazar, a smile still on his face, shakes his head. “They’ve probably already taken his phone.”

“Well, I need to do _something_ , I can’t just leave him there.”

“Cassy,” Balthazar takes a deep breath. “I know you don't wanna hear this b—”

“Then don't say it,” Castiel barks through clenched teeth.

“ _But_ ,” He shrugs. “Maybe this is a sign that you should let Dean go.”

Castiel folds his arms over his chest. “If you don't want to help then you're welcome to go camp out in someone else's bedroom.”

Balthazar gives him a hard look then sighs deeply. “Fine.”

\--,--

“So,” Chuck starts as he pushes the third beer across the counter at Dean. “You were going to jail…”

“Right,” Dean replies as he put the bottle to his lips.

“...but now you're not.”

“Mhm.”

“Because a cop you think you slept with let you go.”

“That's the gist of it yeah,” Dean sighs as he places the half-empty bottle back on the counter. “For the hundredth time.”

“Wow,” Chuck breathes, “I can’t believe your luck,” then folds his fingers together. “So what happens now?”

“I dunno, man,” Dean laughs. “I’m like...still in shock, I...I have a real, legitimate chance to get away from this bullshit but I can’t think of what to do first!”

“Did you call your brother?”

“Yeah,” Dean pulls his phone out of his pocket again while his other hand still holds the sweating bottle. There are no missed, returned calls from Sam. “I called but he didn’t pick up so I left a message and...I don't know how to get in touch with Cas.”

“You don’t have his number?”

Dean shakes his head. “He told me not to call it because it’s a public line.”

Chuck gives him a look of disbelief.

“But it’s an emergency.”

Dean opens his mouth to argue but then snaps it closed and opens the phone to find the number that Castiel had rang from the day before.

A woman answers after the fourth ring, “You’ve reached Cloudspire Manor, this is Hannah speaking.”

Dean clears his throat. “Hi uhm...is Castiel there?”

There is a long pause and Dean checks his phone screen to make sure that she hasn’t hung up. The timer is still counting upwards so he puts the phone back to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Sorry.” She says. “Who may I say is calling?”

“Uh...tell ‘im...tell him my favorite color is blue.”

He watches Chuck furrow his brows.

“He’ll know what it means.”

She hums. “Just a moment.”

Over the line, Dean hears a beep and a crackle then the same woman’s voice followed by another crackle.

She comes back on the line to tell him, “Castiel isn’t in. Can I take a message?”

“Uh, yeah just...just tell him to call me back.”

“Will do.”

“Thanks.”

Chuck leans closer to him as soon as he hangs up there phone. “Well?”

Dean runs a hand down his face. “He’s not there.”

“Do you have any idea where he could be?”

Dean put his whole upper body into the shrug. “He could be at the dry cleaners for all I know.”

Chuck purses his lips then tsks. “Wanna know what I think?”

Dean takes a deep breath and nods.

“And you’re more than welcome to ignore me completely, but I think you sh—”

The bell over the door dings as it opens and Chuck’s eyes flit to the door.

“Dean?”

Dean turns around in his seat to see Castiel and Balthazar in the frame of the door.

“Cas?” Dean breathes and stands up off the stool as Castiel moves toward him with his arms open.

Balthazar rolls his eyes when they start kissing and his gaze eventually stops on Chuck, who greets him a smile that Balthazar half-heartedly returns.

“What are you doing here?” Dean whispers as he presses their foreheads together.

Castiel smiles softly as he plays with Dean’s collar.

“You said that you knew this bar’s owner so I thought I would come to him to find out how to get in contact with your brother.” He rests his hands on Dean’s cheeks. “Forget about _me_ , Balthazar said you were incarcerated.”

Dean scoffs, “Yeah, there’s a whole story behind that.”

“And he’ll tell you all about it later,” Chuck interjects, waving his hands between the two of them. “I believe I was in the middle of a would-be solution to your little exile problem.”

Castiel frowns. “Exile problem?”

Dean rubs his thumb over Castiel’s bottom lip. “Let’s hear him out,” he says as he turns back to the bar and to Chuck.

“Actually, it’s perfect because Castiel is already here and that’ll make it much easier to grab as much crap as you can carry and run away together.”

Castiel’s mouth drops open but Dean scoffs, “You’re not serious.”

He looks over in time to see Castiel’s whole body sag.

“You don’t want to?”

“It’s not that Cas, I mean, it’d be great to be together without the job getting in the way but,” He shrugs. “I can’t.”

Behind them Balthazar scoffs and Castiel turns a glare on him before facing Dean again.

“If this is about your brother, then he can come too,” Castiel lays one hand on Dean’s face again.

Dean pulls Castiel’s hand away. “It’s not Sam, it’s _Crowley_.” He sighs and averts his eyes. “We owe him money, Cas, a lot of money. I can't just walk out on that."

Castiel laughs softly and grasps Dean's shoulders.

"Dean, ever since I first started working for Naomi, I've had the chance to meet dozens of affluent people. Doctors, lawyers, athletes, senators, presidents, I had a King _and_ his son once!"

Dean snorts. "Okay, where's this going?"

"I've got money, Dean,” Castiel says softly. “Just tell me how much you need and I'll go to Crowley myself and buy you both out."

Dean blinks slowly.

"You would do that?" He asks after a long pause.

Castiel bites his lip and nods.

“You better not be messing with me, Cas.” He says,  pointing a finger at him. “I swear, if you’re messing with me.”

Castiel bats the hand away from his face. “Dean, I promise.”

Dean laughs and pulls Castiel in for a deep kiss.

“What about Naomi?” Balthazar asks and Chuck hears him but he is ignored by the pair still kissing by the bar.

\--,--

“I never did get the chance to ask,” Naomi starts as she and the Senator make their way into Cloudspire’s kitchen where three Angels are preparing dinner. “Did Castiel treat you well?”

Scribe inhales deeply. “He was perfect.” He is silent for the time it takes him to exhale and Naomi realises that he is reminiscing. “I want to see him again.”

She arches her eyebrow. “For the same price?”

He frowns. “I thought you said that was a one-time-only thing.”

She gives him a small smile. “What I _said_ was that Castiel comes highly recommended.” She runs her fingertips along the edge of the counter, “You’re welcome to any of the others for a much lower price,” then gestures to the three in the kitchen as she speaks. “Right here, right now if you want.”

“I already _told_ you,” He says through clenched teeth. “I’m not interested in anyone but Castiel.”

“So shit or get off the pot, Senator.” She tilts her head then sucks her bottom lip between her teeth.

Scribe sighs. “I just want a date,”—Naomi narrows her eyes at him—“Just a regular, go out to eat and maybe catch a movie _date_. There doesn’t have to be any...y’know, anything else.”

“You’re paying for his time as much as his body so my statement stands.”

Naomi grins when she sees him avert his gaze.

“If I remember correctly, Castiel has been booked this weekend so...how about Wednesday?” She asks and then hums. “What day is today?”

“Monday,” One of the Angels answers.

She tsks. “Let’s do Thursday instead.”

Scribe furrows his brow. “You’re not even going to ask him first?”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine with it.” She shrugs one shoulder. “Besides, if I do ask him, then there’s a chance he’ll say no. Is that what you want?”

He purses his lips and she smiles wide at him.

\--,--

“What are we gonna do about Naomi?” Dean asks as the car rolls to a stop in front of his apartment building.

“I’ll handle Naomi,” Castiel assures as he climbs out of the car behind Dean. He rests his hand on Dean’s cheek then kisses his lips. “You just need to worry about your brother.”

Dean laughs softly. “It’s what I do best.”

Castiel smiles at him.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” He says before climbing into the front passenger seat next to Balthazar.

Dean nods then heads for the doors into his building as they pull away from the curb.

He pushes the apartment door open and finds his brother standing before him, a gun in his hand pointed right at the door, right at Dean.

“Whoa!” Dean yells and waves his arms. “Sam! It's me!”

Sam only slightly brought the gun down. “Dean?”

“Put the damn gun down man, what're you doing?”

Sam lets out an uncontrolled laugh and he drops the gun on the couch before moving toward his brother.

“I thought someone was trying to break in.”

Dean's breath is knocked out of him when Sam takes him in an embrace.

“With a key?” Dean grunts.

“How are you here?”

Dean holds on to his brother for a while longer before patting his shoulder and pulling away.

“Okay, long story short, I’m not going to jail but we _do_ have to go.”

Sam blinks at him as he moves passed. “Go _where_?”

“I dunno,” Dean throws his hand up in the air. “Cas said—”

“ _Cas_?!”

Dean stops in his doorway because of the accusatory tone his brother is suddenly throwing at him.

“This is because of that _Angel_?” Sam scoffs. “Did you forget that it was one of them who got you into this mess in the first place?”

“That was Raphael and he’s a dick, but Cas is—”

“But _Cas_ is just the dick you slept with,” Sam interjects then crosses his arms over his chest.

Dean sighs deeply and rests his hands on his hips.

“How do you know this isn’t a trick?” Sam accuses.

“No,” Dean holds up his palm up to his brother. “Cas wants to help us get out from under Crowley’s boot. Don’t you want that?”

“We’re gonna be owing Crowley until well into our fifties, Dean, how the hell do you expect _Cas_ ,”—he says just as bitterly—“to have all that money just _laying_ around? How could you believe him when he tells you he does?”

Dean shakes his head. “He wouldn't lie to me like that.”

Sam jerks his head forward. “Because you know him so well?”

“Sam,” Dean warns.

"You’re not using your upstairs brain,” Sam tells him. “Say _Cas_ does manage to somehow buy us out, then what? Then we’re just gonna be under _his_ boot.”

Dean shakes his head. “It won’t be like that.”

“Dean, y—”

“Sam,” Now he holds out a finger to his brother in warning. “Sammy, okay...you don’t _have_ to trust him, just trust me. Can you do that?”

Sam frowns in disbelief that his brother would even ask that.

“So trust me when I say that I trust Cas to look after us.”

Sam sighs and chews the corner of his lip. He closes his eyes and nods so slightly that Dean almost misses it.

“Yeah?” Dean smiles.

Sam rolls his eyes when he opens them again. “Yes.”

“Good.” Dean takes a deep breath and rubs his hands together. “Now let’s decide what we're gonna grab cuz we're getting the hell outta here tomorrow.”

“So is he orchestrating his escape too?” Sam asks when Dean heads back toward his room.

“Oh,” Dean snaps his fingers then turns to face his brother again. “Yes but speaking of the escape, that cop? The black one?” Dean laughs shortly. “He kissed me.”

Sam raises his brow.

“And…” Dean narrows his eyes. “I’m startin’ to think it was horse-dick Vic.”

Sam scoffs and steps passed his brother. “There’s no way horse-dick Vic is a cop.”

“He always wears a mask so how would you know?”

Sam disappears into his bedroom but calls out, “Exactly!”

“What?” Dean, confused, whispers to himself.


	5. Act IV

Without giving much of an explanation, Castiel hugs every Angel he passes as he and Balthazar make their way to his bedroom. When he finally opens his bedroom door, he finds Naomi and Senator Scribe standing by his bed. They are on the far side, Naomi is peering through the balcony doors while Scribe is sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand is running slowly back and forth over the strewn sheets.

They both turn when they hear the door.

“Hello Castiel, how are you?” Scribe beams as he makes his way around the bed. His eyes flit to Balthazar and his smile drops. “Who’s your friend?”

Castiel tries to give the man a smile but it feels more like a snarl.

“What are you doing in my bedroom?”

“I came to see you.” Scribe moves closer as he continues to assess Balthazar. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He takes Castiel by both hands. “Naomi told me about your vicious attack.”

Castiel looks up at his matron. She has her arms crossed over her chest but her expression is solemn.

“I swear,” Scribe continues, now rubbing his thumbs over Castiel’s hand. “When I get my hands on that bastard, I’m going to punish him to the fullest extent of the law.”

Castiel pulls his hands from Scribe’s grasp.

“There was no attack,” He says then shoulders passed Scribe so he can face Naomi’s now concerned expression. “Dean didn’t do anything wrong. I invited him up here.”

Naomi and Scribe both exhale, “ _What_?”

“We made love in this bed,” Castiel continues, “And it was magnificent, Naomi, not only because he’s forbidden fruit but also because I think I might be in love with him.”

Scribe makes a squeaky noise behind him.

“Further,” Castiel takes a deep breath. “I’m leaving.”

Her mouth drops open and she blinks at him. “Leaving?”

“This house,” Castiel explains. “This profession. I can’t in good conscience get into bed with anyone else but Dean.”

“B-But, wait...” Scribe stutters and moves to take Castiel by the hand again. “I thought what we had was special.”

He rolls his eyes before facing the whinging senator.

“You were _supposed_ to think that,” He replies and yanks himself from the grip.

Naomi has her lips pursed when Castiel faces her again but he can still see them slightly quiver.

“And what about you Balthazar?” She asks.

He holds his hands up and replies, “Oh _I’m_ not going anywhere. This is my dream job and I’m far from being in love with anyone.” He shrugs. “I’m just here for moral support.”

She closes her eyes and pulls in a deep sigh.

“Can I have some time to digest it?” She asks. “After all, you _are_ my biggest seller.”

Castiel shakes his head. “I’ve already made up my mind.”

The corner of her lip twitches with a smile. She makes her way, arms still crossed, to the other side of the bed to stand before him, to stare into his eyes.

He expects the slap but it stings nonetheless, right down to his bones.

“I hope you don’t regret this.”

He works his jaw back and forth then says, “I won’t.”

Naomi raises her hand again but he doesn’t flinch. She rests her palm against his sore jaw and rubs her thumb over his cheekbone.

“Come on senator,” She says as she turns to leave the room.

His own jaw a little slack, Scribe follows Naomi wordlessly.

Castiel finds Balthazar watching him watch Naomi walk away.

“What?” He asks when they face each other again.

“Nothing,” Balthazar responds then shrugs. “I’m going to miss you.”

Castiel laughs softly then pushes Balthazar’s shoulder.

“So,” He raises his hands for a second then drop them back to his sides. “What are you gonna take?”

Castiel looks around him, at everything he had bought or been gifted over the years, everything that makes this room feel like home.

“I’m not taking any of it,” He answers softly. “Some clothes but…” He shrugs. “These are all symbols of a life when I was being bought and sold. Now that Dean and I have each other, that’s all over with.”

“So then can I have this room?” Balthazar cranes his neck and turns around in a circle. “It’s the nicest one in the house.”

“Sure,” Castiel snorts. “I don’t care.”

“Well,” Balthazar pulls in a deep breath and sighs it out. “Last night in Cloudspire.”

Castiel purses his lips and nods.

“Can we spend it together like old times?”

He gets a scoff in response. “Since when do you ask?”

Balthazar shrugs. “You said you didn’t want to get into bed with anyone else but Dean.”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “I meant _sex_.”

“How do you know that’s not what _I_ mean?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Shut up and get to sleep.”

“Food first,” Balthazar announces then rubs his belly. “I thought I smelled mashed potatoes downstairs.”

Castiel laughs softly as he follows Balthazar out of the room.

They reminisce softly in the dining room while they eat and drink the oldest bottle of wine they could find before making their way back upstairs to Castiel’s bedroom.

Balthazar climbs into the bed long before Castiel finishes picking out what clothes he wants to bring with him. The phone he had forgotten Dean had given him, clunks against the floor when he pushes his jeans down his hips. He sets it on the nightstand before climbing under the sheets next to Balthazar.

The phone starts to ring what feels like minutes later and he quickly answers it.

“Dean?”

“We’re outside baby.”

“I have to get dressed,” He grunts as he starts to climb out of bed. “I’ll be right down.”

He hangs up the phone and turns to see Balthazar shifting under the sheets.

“What time is it? He groans.

“Time for me to go,” Castiel yawns as he slides off the mattress and picks his jeans up off the floor.

“This is it then,” He says softly and Castiel purses his lips.

He can tell his old friend is trying to hide his frown. He steps into his bathroom to prepare for the day then finds Balthazar sitting up when he comes back into his bedroom.

“You could walk me to the front door,” He says softly.

Balthazar shakes his head. “I don’t think I’ll last that long.”

He crawls out from underneath the sheets and wraps his arms around Castiel.

“Take care of yourself,” he breathes into Castiel’s neck then quickly pulls away and gets back underneath the sheets, covering his whole body.

Castiel wipes his eyes and pulls in a settling breath as he lifts the bag he had placed at the end of his bed then slowly moves toward his door. He takes a look around the bedroom that used to be his then closed the door behind him.

After one last, lingering look at the house that had been his home for as long as he could remember, Castiel climbs into the black car waiting for him at the end of Cloudspire’s driveway.

The backseat is full to bursting, with barely room for Castiel and his bag.

Dean turns over his shoulder to look at him then at the bag in his lap.

“That’s all you're taking?” He asks.

Castiel shrugs as he adjusts his hips. “I didn’t want to take anything from my old life with me.”

Dean scoffs, “We didn’t bother to be so noble,” as he turns out of the driveway. “Took us about an hour to get the trunk to close.”

Castiel lightly taps the shoulder of the man sitting in front of him.

“You must be Sam,” He says, presenting his hand to shake. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Sam smiles and shakes his hand. “You too, Cas.”

“You remember the plan?” Dean asks him in the rearview.

Castiel nods.

\--,--

Sam can almost hear his jaw creak with the clench of his teeth as the elevator dings when they reach Crowley’s office floor. He notices that Castiel is calm, that he seems that way at least.

The secretary’s desk is empty so Sam pushes open the door and steps inside with Castiel at his shoulder.

Crowley, sitting behind his desk, assesses the two of them. He clears his throat then knocks twice on the desk.

“Daddy has guests,” he says.

They hear a faint shuffling before a head emerges from underneath the desk. Sam recognises one of the new recruits when she stands and wipes her mouth. His mouth goes dry and bile gathers in the back of his throat at the memory of going through this initiation himself. Him and Dean both.

“Thank you Mr. Crowley,” She says, then bows before turning to the door.

Her eyes meet Castiel’s as she walks by but she doesn’t say anything.

“Samantha,” Crowley leans back in his chair and steeples his fingertips like a comic book villain. “Just why the hell are you parading Naomi’s blue-ribboned bitch through my halls?”

Sam clenches his jaw and Castiel steps around him, responding, "I want to buy out Sam and Dean."

Crowley scoffs, "Pardon?" as he stands behind his desk and pulls up his zipper.

"Name your price and I'll pay it," Castiel adds and his voice doesn’t waver even as Crowley starts to come around his desk.

"Is she serious?" He says to Sam before turning back to Castiel. He hums. "So which one is it?”

Castiel tilts his head. “Excuse me?”

“Which one of them kissed your pussy and told you how pretty you look all spread out for him?”—Sam closes his eyes—“Or was it both because _I_ taught them how to do that, y’know.”

“ _Name_ your _price_ ,” Castiel snarls.

Crowley chuckles. “Why is Naomi trying to poach a couple of my used-up whores?”

“I don’t work for Naomi anymore,” Castiel tells him.

That makes Crowley arch his brows. “Branching out on your own then?” He sucks his teeth. “Because I have a few others who aren’t quite as…” He looks directly at Sam when he finishes, “...loose.”

“I’m getting tired of this,” Castiel sighs. “I’ll give you five-hundred for them.”

Sam looks down at the side of Castiel’s head.

Crowley hangs his head back for a second. “Each?”

Castiel shrugs. “Done.”

“What?!” Sam exclaims then grabs Castiel’s shoulder. “That’s a little steep donchu think?”

Castiel pays him no attention. “Do you have some sort of a contract I can sign or...tear up?”

“Cas,” Sam continues, “That’s way more than we owe him.”

“It’s done, Sam,” Castiel replies.

“Yeah, _Sam_ ,” Crowley grins. “It’s _done_.” He turns his leer on Castiel. “How do you wanna do this? Cash, credit or check?”

“I have your account number so I’ll just make the deposit,”—Crowley’s leer deepens—” _After_ you remove any trace of their existence and not a second before.”

“Kiss on it?” Crowley asks.

Castiel grimaces at him and he laughs then extends his hand.

“A shake then.”

“Just do it,” Castiel says before turning his back on Crowley.

He takes Sam by the arm and pulls him.

As they leave, they hear the beep of Crowley’s intercom.

The echo of his voice comes over his now-present secretary’s intercom. “Be a dear and get the tech guy’s in here,  would you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she answers then waves to Sam and Castiel.


	6. Act V

Dean is tapping his fingers on the steering wheel when he hears the elevator arrive at the underground parking garage for the fourth time. He cranes his neck again to watch the doors and exhales deeply when he sees his brother’s head bobbing over the tops of the cars.

He makes sure that no one is around to see him then climbs out of the car to meet them.

“How’d it go?” He asks, reaching out to brush his fingertips against Castiel’s arm.

“It’s done,” Castiel grins.

“How much did he want?”

Castiel opens his mouth to answer but Sam cuts him off with his reply, “Half a million for the both of us.”

Dean blinks three times. “Wait...” He closes his eyes. “ _What_? That's--”

“It's okay, Dean,” Castiel says as he slides his fingers between Dean's.

“That's so much,” Dean whispers.

“More than we're worth,” Sam agrees then shrugs. “But like he said, it's already done.” He moves toward the rear passenger door and opens it but leans against the top. “What I wanna know is how much you paid for Naomi to let you go?”

Castiel shrugs, “Nothing.”

Dean raises his brow and takes a step back. “She let you walk out just like that?”

“Well no, she slapped me first.”

“That’s not what--”

“I know,” Castiel chuckles. “But unlike you all, the Angels aren’t servants outside of a bedroom. Cloudspire is our _home_. We can come and go as we please.”

Sam folds his arms across his chest. “So then what’s with the phone thing?”

“Oh, that’s in case there’s a plant.”

The brothers frown at him.

“Like a…” Castiel snaps his fingers. “Like a _spy_. Naomi doesn’t allow personal phones in case someone is planning an attack on the house.” He shakes his head. “Naomi...she only wants to protect us.”

“And pass you around to the highest bidder,” Dean grumbles.

“Some like that sort of thing.” Cas lifts his shoulders. “ _I_ did.”

Dean scoffs, “It almost sounds like you wanna go back.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dean.” Castiel rubs his thumb over the webbing between Dean’s thumb and forefinger. “I wanna be where _you_ are.”

Sam mutters something to himself then sits down and shuts the car door.

Dean clears his throat.

“Cas um...I gotta tell you somethin’.”

Castiel furrows his brow. “What is it?”

“I kissed someone yesterday,” Dean admits and watches Castiel’s face go slack. “Well _he_ kissed _me_ but the point I didn’t wanna start this... _us_ keeping a secret like that so yeah, I...was kissed by someone. A cop. I was kissed by the cop that let me go.”

After a second, Castiel starts to smile.

“Dean, I don’t care.” He runs the fingers of his other hand through Dean's hair. “All that matters right now is that we’ve escaped.”

Dean holds his arm.

“We escaped and we're together,” Castiel continues.

“That's _right_ , baby,” Dean says then kisses Castiel’s wrist. “Thank you.”

Castiel runs his thumb over Dean’s temple. “I would do anything for you.”

Dean would never admit the prickling feeling he had in his eyes when Castiel said that. He knew it was true, those words, because Castiel had given up everything for him. Castiel is willing to leave behind the only real home he had ever known, his lifestyle, his job, his friends--especially Balthazar who he seemed uncommonly close to for someone he never had sex with. Castiel was giving up everything for him and didn’t even think twice about it. All because Dean broke the rules and decided to take a stroll around a brothel.

“Let's get the hell outta here,” Dean says then clears his throat after his voice breaks.

Sam, buds in his ears and eyes locked on the tablet in his hand, sits quietly in the back seat while Dean pulls out of the parking garage.

Castiel turns to look at Sam and runs his hand over Dean's knee as they drive away.

“Hey,” Dean breathes when they're miles from the city.

Castiel breaks his gaze with the trees at the side of the road to look back at him.

“Thanks again.”

Castiel leans over and kisses Dean's cheek.

“You don’t have to keep thanking me, y'know.”

But Dean does keep thanking him, every chance he gets. He thanks Cas at least one other time during their aimless trip. He thanks Cas when they're all tired enough to stop at a motel for the night. He moans his gratitude into Castiel's ear when he sinks into him in the motel room separate from Sam’s. He thanks Cas when they find a home, when he uses his connections to get Sammy into school. He thanks Cas the morning he proposes, right as they wake up. He thanks Cas the night they get married.

Castiel, always smiling, always happy to have him, kisses him and thanks him right back.


End file.
